Between Genius And Insanity
by ceilidh65
Summary: A missing scene from Untouchable. Gibbs and McGee have an interesting chat on the way back from the Pentagon. I hope you enjoy, please R&R if you do!


Between Genius And Insanity by ceilidh

A/N:- The idea for this story came from a short, rather unsettling scene in season three's Untouchable – the one where Gibbs and McGee interview the dead cryptographer's CO at the Pentagon, and Gibbs discovers some disturbing parallels between Tim and Lieutenant Hill.

It's very brief, but that 'between genius and insanity' line, and its implications, really struck me. The way Gibbs looks at Tim, and Tim's reaction, left an obvious 'what if…?' issue between them – and since nothing more of it was made in the episode itself, I wrote this 'missing scene' story instead.

I know the team don't find out officially about Sarah McGee until season four's Twisted Sister. But assuming she'd be on Tim's file, which Gibbs must have read before McGee joined his team, I think Gibbs would have found out about Sarah during Tim's first assignment to him in Sub Rosa.

So for a crucial part in this story, and with a bit of writer's licence, Gibbs already knows about her here.

The story is set as Gibbs and McGee leave the Pentagon, and gives Gibbs a chance to resolve his concerns

As always, I hope you enjoy!

As he steered the sedan onto the I-395, Gibbs slid another glance towards his unnaturally silent passenger. Tim McGee was a reflective kid at the best of times, of course, but right now - no, he was just _too_ quiet. Frowning slightly, he seemed more interested in the traffic around them than discussing their latest case.

From what they'd just heard from Captain Dorn, though, and what he'd said himself in response – yes, Gibbs knew his young agent had every right to be quiet, reflecting on their unthinkable implications.

'_These people are recruited based on their abilities_, _and sometimes it_'_s a thin line between genius_ _and_...'

'…_insanity_…'

Mentally kicking himself for what he'd said, and the glance which had gone with it, Gibbs then sighed – ruefully comparing Tim's brooding quietness to how excited he'd been, just those few hours before.

When they'd driven into the Pentagon's main complex, Gibbs had found it impossible to shut him up – as amused as he was exasperated by a tumbling flurry of '_wow_…!' '_oh_ _boy_…!' and '_I_ _can_'_t_ _believe I_'_m_ _here_…!'

Intrigued by that last point, Gibbs had naturally pursued it as they'd gone through security.

"You've never been to the Pentagon before, McGee?"

Blushing slightly, Tim had then shaken his head, stammering through a nervously shy reply.

"Ye-… I – I mean, no, boss. I – I had a job offer here, when I left MIT, but - well, I didn't take it"

Dryly wondering if this kid would _ever_ stop surprising him, Gibbs had just smiled back and nodded – allowing himself a grin of smug pride that the Pentagon's loss had been _his_ team's irreplaceable gain.

Once inside, of course, the awe-struck kid had been replaced by one of that team's strongest and most valued assets – his very own crime-lab on legs, thriving in the environment where he felt so wholly at ease.

Gibbs, on the other hand, had felt more than slightly out of his depth. So, it seemed, had Captain Dorn

"These cryptographers, they're not like us," the unit's CO had said, nodding towards his team.

"Their lives are about patterns and numbers. To tell you the truth, I don't understand half of it. But they're pretty tightly wound, and Lieutenant Hill was no different"

Okay, so Tim McGee maybe wasn't _quite_ so tightly wound, but the kid was still a certified genius.

Every bit as brilliant, and dedicated, as Lara Hill, Gibbs knew two traits between them were already there. Throw in McGee's sensitive nature, his innate compassion for others, how easily he could be hurt, and – yep, Gibbs had worriedly realized, his youngest agent could so easily follow Lara Hill's tragic fate.

Trying to ignore the silent alarm bells in his head, he'd doggedly stuck to the task in hand.

"You're saying she was suicidal?"

"I'm saying that she was _withdrawn,_" Dorn had corrected him, explaining himself just as emphatically. "She was socially awkward, had obsessive-compulsive traits…"

Gibbs had almost winced at that. More similarities between one shy, perfectionist genius and another. And, as he'd expected, Tim McGee had shown the same fixation for dotting every i, and crossing every t.

"Well, none of that was in her medical record-"

"No, and it wouldn't be!" Dorn had told him, his tone wavering between defensiveness and exasperation. "These people are recruited based on their abilities, and sometimes it's a thin line between genius and…"

"…insanity…" Gibbs had quietly finished for him, finding it impossible not to glance across at McGee.

Even now, Gibbs still had no idea why he'd said such a thing, or why he'd looked at the kid so pointedly. He still didn't know what to make of Tim McGee's reaction, or rather the _lack_ of one, and –

"I'm – I'm not like them, boss"

However soft it had been, that quiet voice beside him had still startled Jethro Gibbs out of his thoughts – the words which hesitantly followed causing him to stare, with the closest thing to shock he'd ever reach.

"I – I mean, I know I _am_, in many ways, but in the ways _you_ were thinking about, boss, then - well, um…"

Watching him get so thoroughly tongue-tied, Gibbs felt his surprise give way to a semi-relieved smile. Tim McGee was stuttering, as he always did when that hyper-brilliant mind worked faster than his mouth.

Yet his eyes were clear, and perfectly calm. Both were signs of reassuring normality. More heartening still, he was willing to talk about a subject which, by rights, should have terrified him.

"I know I have a lot in common, boss, with Lieutenant Hill, and the rest of her unit, but I'm - I'm okay. I – I mean, however flaky I might get at times, I'm not… well, I'm _not_ gonna kill myself because of it"

'_Damn straight you won_'_t_, _McGee_… '_cos_ _if you do_, _I_'_ll_ _still find ways to make your afterlife hell_…'

Keeping that threat wisely to himself, Gibbs just nodded, settling instead for a privately wry smile – whatever he'd planned to say out loud frozen, into astonished silence, at what McGee said next.

"'sides, I've – I've been assessed before, boss, when I was… um… when I was at MIT"

It was a good job they'd stopped in traffic – because right now, Jethro Gibbs' eyes were _not_ on the road. Instead, they'd swung to his right again, staring into a face which, he noted, was astonishingly calm.

"_You_'_ve_ had a suicide assessment?" he said at last, hoping he sounded calmer than he currently felt.

Tim McGee had pitched him some curveballs in his time, but – jeez, this one took the prize so far.

To his relief, Tim's face was still calm and composed – holding its familiar, shy half-smile. His eyes, as always, conveyed the many emotions beyond. Those eyes, too, still steadily held his own. And when he spoke again, his voice, while understandably quieter than usual, kept courageously level.

"My room-mate, boss. Jeff Baxter, he… um… he – he shot himself, just before he took his finals, and… well, after the counsellors left, everyone in our faculty, we… um… well, we all had risk assessments"

Still taking this mini-bombshell in, Gibbs just nodded – waiting for Tim to answer his unspoken '_and_?'

Just as he'd hoped, and proudly expected, that reply came back with Tim McGee's unbreakable honesty.

"I was… well, terrified, boss. I – I mean, we were in the same class, and we were both complete geeks. Everyone kept saying how much we had in common, but… well, no, in one crucial thing, we didn't. I knew my family were there, whenever I needed them, but Jeff didn't have that to fall back on.

He… um… well, he found it really hard. His family had such high expectations for him, and… well, if my family hadn't been there to support me, boss, and given me the space I needed… yeah, I could easily have gone the same way he did"

Quietly remembering his own devastating loss, and what he'd felt afterwards, Gibbs nodded once more – his smile proudly returning as he began to understand, and appreciate, a common ground between them

Whether through his parents and sister, or the equally close-knit counterparts he'd found in his career – yes, the reason why Tim McGee had passed that assessment could be summed up in a single word.

Family meant everything to him. _Everything_. And that single, simple fact explained one hell of a lot.

It explained his ability to bounce back from whatever life threw at him, however bad, and still survive it. And it certainly explained why he'd stayed on his team, despite the countless reasons he'd had to leave.

God knew, the way the kid had been treated at times, he'd had the same number of reasons to walk away.

Yet he'd stayed. Against odds which he'd normally swear by, Tim McGee had stayed on his team.

He'd grown from a klutzy, tongue-tied rookie into the competent, brilliant agent Gibbs knew he'd become – his next words speaking volumes for the strength of his character, and the depths of his loyalty.

"I've been so lucky, boss. Both then and now, I've been… well, just so incredibly lucky"

"Luck's what you make it, McGee," Gibbs retorted, treating Tim to one of his rare, genuine smiles – knowing, from the way Tim smiled back at him, that he'd learned to count his blessings a long time ago.

He still clearly needed to talk, though, and Jethro Gibbs had gone three hours straight without coffee. He'd never last a fourth, so a quick stop at Roxy's Diner would be a real godsend for both of them.

And since he'd been given this rare chance to be with one of his best agents, and just _talk_ to him – yes, Gibbs decided, for the sake of those few minutes, their latest case could just go on hold for a while.

As a connoisseur of coffee, Jethro Gibbs knew Roxy's Diner served some of the best in DC. Judging by the broad smile on Tim McGee's face, their burritos were pretty good, too – so worthy of his attention, in fact, that he was completely oblivious to a hopefully flirty waitress.

Then again, Gibbs dryly noted, the fact that she was old enough to be the kid's mother didn't exactly help.

Watching her roll her eyes in frustration, and give up the effort, Gibbs grinned, fondly shaking his head. Tim McGee may have had '_mother me_' written all over his face – but few women actually managed it.

His mom always could, of course, and so could Abby, but aside from these _very_ special ladies in his life – no, all other contenders to cosset and coddle him were, with impeccable manners, kept gently at bay.

Again, the security of a strict but supportive upbringing had shaped that part of Tim McGee's character – something which Gibbs genuinely respected as he continued to study his youngest, quirkiest agent.

It had given him crucial strength to face the trauma of a friend's suicide, and learn to live with it – although the way he'd first dealt with his grief now made Gibbs stare at him, in pure surprise.

"You learned to _paint_?"

Smiling self-consciously back at him, McGee then shrugged while stirring more cream into his coffee.

"Yeah, but… well, I was pretty bad at it, boss. That's why I… um… switched to writing instead. I – I started a journal, to - um, deal with Jeff's death, and… well, it helped, boss. It _really_ helped.

I don't know why, but writing just… you know, it helped me cope, with Jeff, and… well, everything. Then I started writing stuff for the college paper, did a few articles, and - well, it kinda snowballed from there"

Quietly congratulating himself on solving one of Tim McGee's many mysteries, Gibbs nodded.

"Your crime novels?" he said at last, putting two and two together himself to solve another.

He'd often wondered why the otherwise warm and open McGee was so secretive over his writing. Now, as its origins were explained, Gibbs understood why – and he respected its healing privacy.

Meeting Tim's eyes again, he felt his smile widen, in pride for the resilience they expressed. In that moment, Gibbs realized that Tim McGee was one of the strongest, sanest people he'd ever met.

Then again, he dryly reflected, against the likes of Abby and DiNozzo, that wasn't _exactly_ hard.

Yet for all their merciless teasing, both had done wonders in bringing this shy, sensitive kid out of his shell. Through Tony's guidance especially, the wide eyed rookie had learned to rely on, and trust, his instincts.

And, Gibbs noted in proud approval , he'd now fervently defend a cause which he felt had been vilified.

"You know what really bugged me back there, boss? Captain Dorn, when he was talking about his team. I – I mean, not to disrespect him, but if he doesn't understand what they do, or – or how they work, then…"

"…what the hell is he doing leading them?" Gibbs finished for him, nodding too in agreement – studying Tim's face again, assessing his mood, before gently voicing what both of them were thinking.

"That's probably why they offered you that job, McGee, because you _do_ understand how they work, and… hell, I hate to say this, Tim, because I don't believe in what ifs, but you'd have been damn good at it, too"

"Yeah, boss, I know. My dad still can't believe I turned them down," Tim admitted softly – frowning a little as he fingered his badge, before his voice, and his smile, regained their familiar strength.

"But I'm doing what _I_ want to do, boss. I've wanted to be a federal agent, for as long as I can remember. I don't want to stand by a blackboard all day, writing out equations, I – I want to _help_ people, and… well, given the choice, boss, between crunching numbers all day, and what I'm learning from you-"

Pausing for a moment, McGee then quietly asked the question which Gibbs already knew was coming.

"And I'm… I – I mean, I _am_ doing okay… aren't I, boss?"

Gibbs had to smile at that. Faced with such earnest hope for approval – damn, he just couldn't help it.

Quietly hoping that some parts of Tim McGee would _never_ change, he then grinned and nodded – reassuring his young agent, as only he could, with a fatherly slap across the back of his head.

"Yeah, McGee, you're doing okay. If you weren't, I'd be slapping you a _lot_ harder"

Watching him dissolve into helpless laughter, Gibbs felt a surge of protective respect for Timothy McGee. As with all his kids - Tony, Kate, Abby, and now McGee - his little boy had suddenly grown right up.

Like all the best fathers, though, that still wouldn't stop Jethro Gibbs from worrying about him – a concern now expressed with a quiet, blunt sincerity which he knew Tim McGee would understand.

"Yeah, you're okay, McGee, but - Tim, if you need help, with _anything_, you can _always_ come to me"

"I know, boss… and yeah, if I ever have a problem, I – I will," McGee promised him, just as seriously, through another shy smile – this new understanding between them entering unknown territory as they rose from their seats.

Reaching automatically for the check, Tim then stared, in startled surprise, as Gibbs picked it up instead

"I got it, McGee"

Knowing better than to argue, McGee thought for a moment, then went for even greater bravery instead

"Thanks, boss! Though if I'd known that earlier, I'd have gone for the deluxe…"

Fatherly pride or no fatherly pride… hell, Jethro Gibbs couldn't let _that_ go unpunished.

#whack#

Grinning at the face Tim pulled in reply, Gibbs then slipped back into the role that suited him so well – the surrogate father who could offer a lifetime of support in a simple, innocuous question.

"So, McGee - anything else you want to tell me?"

Frowning, from both the question and a mild concussion, Tim McGee then smiled a gently playful smile.

"No, boss… I – I mean, nothing as deep as this," he said at last, the grin which followed so broad, so full of joyous mischief, that it almost burst clear out of his face.

"But just to drive Tony nuts… yeah, it's kinda fun to be Mr Mystery"

Laughing too much to reply, Gibbs then draped a fatherly arm over Tim McGee's shoulders.

He shuddered to think what other little gems of intrigue this one-of-a-kind kid was keeping from him. But for entertainment value alone, the fun he'd have watching Tony DiNozzo try to fathom them out – yes, life in his incredible family would _never_ be dull.


End file.
